


Wrath Defeated

by surreysmum



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surreysmum/pseuds/surreysmum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L/A. PG ficlet. Legolas has a sure cure for the irritant that is Boromir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrath Defeated

Title: Wrath Defeated  
Author: surreysmum  
Pairing: L/A  
Rating: PG  
A/N: I think this was a prompt ficlet, but I can't for the life of me remember what the prompt was! "Angry", probably.

**Wrath Defeated**

Legolas met Aragorn at the top of the inn stairs. The Ranger's brow was thunderous, his fists clenched.

"What is it, _melethron_?" Legolas touched Aragorn's arm lightly in concern.

"Boromir." The name sounded like a dire curse.

"Again."

"Aye, again." Aragorn's fist wrapped itself tight about the newel-post. "He has not the slightest notion of what it is to be part of a fellowship. Everything must be to his liking, according to his notions. His stupidity and self-righteousness infuriate me. I want to batter his thick skull, pound him into the floor!" Legolas' eyes widened; such vehemence was rare from his friend. "But I cannot," the Ranger continued tightly. "I must be the leader of the fellowship. I must be wise and rational and tolerant, as Gandalf was. And it is driving me _mad_!"

Legolas hushed him quickly, mindful of the hobbits and dwarf sleeping nearby. "Take it out on me instead," he suggested.

"Nay, I…" said Aragorn, looking sharply up into the guileless blue eyes before he caught the mischief lurking beneath. A corner of his mouth quirked.

"Must the pounding always be with fists?" Legolas asked needlessly, for the Ranger had already caught his drift. Legolas was rewarded with a broadening grin and a quick shake of the head.

The Elf tossed the Ranger the vial of oil he had been holding in his fist. "Come on then!" he teased; then soundless elven footsteps were chased by swift booted thuds all down the corridor, and when the door slammed, it was not in anger.

 _finis_  
[My ficlist is here](http://surreysmum.dreamwidth.org/48133.html).

 

  
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